Lord of the Flies- Chapter 13
by melchiorgaborlovesme
Summary: Post chapter 12 resolution for LOTF


This story makes me sound like GRRM. Warning quite graphic and gruesome.

**Alternate ending- Jack didn't go out onto the beach with the Naval man, he just saw him and left.

Jack retreated to Castle Rock at the sight of the man in the cleanly pressed blue Navy uniform. Samneric were tied back to the pole, but there was something lifeless about the way their heads hung, chins touching their bare and bloody chests.

Behind Jack the forest continued to burn and smolder. Flames reached for the sky like Lucifer grasping for the Heavens as he fell.

He could barely make out the ship, sitting on the horizon, waiting to take his power away.

Suddenly Roger touched Jack's shoulder, making Jack jump. Roger wore nothing but the stained and torn remnants of his uniform shorts. His fingers were perpetually stained with the juice of fruit and the blood of animals, but there were new tracks of dried blood that ran the length of his forearm, in a downward pattern, towards his elbow.

"They warned Ralph that we were looking for him, but I granted them mercy because they gave us his location."

"Roger, there are people here. People trying to take us away."

Jack glanced back at Sam, who looked up, but avoided eye contact. Sam had dried tears staining his face and blood trailing down his legs from under what was left of his once pristine English school uniform.

"Do you think I'm going to let them take this island from us?"

"What are we going to do?"

"We are going to sit back and let the rest of them leave. They won't come back and look for us. They don't want us just as much as we don't want them. Then we tell the boys that the beast ate them. The beast isn't happy with what's been going on under Ralph and he wants us to lead. That will keep them in line."

"That's perfect. Except, what if they see the boat?"

"We need food. We will send the boys out after the fire dies down. If we send them to the forest, they won't be able to see the ship."

"Okay. How long should we wait before going hunting?"

"Leave now, and follow the path the fire has cut through the jungle. Make sure to put paint on."

With that, Roger called the rest of the tribe over.

"We are to go hunting. I will stay here to watch camp but you all will go find us a pig and we will feast tonight."

The boys whooped and hollered as they followed Jack out of the camp into the jungle of blackened and smoldering wood.

Besides Roger, the only ones left at Castle Rock were Sam and Eric, tied to opposite sides of a pole, their eyes pleading for mercy. Roger moved towards them with the gait of a panther. His hair hung down in such a way that one couldn't see his eyes, but you could feel the fire and power behind them.

With a quick motion of his blade, Roger broke the rope that held Samneric captive. A squeal like a pig's broke from Eric's mouth as the heavy cord fell away from his body. The boys stepped forward, unsure of what they were supposed to do with this newfound freedom.

Roger spoke power backing his voice.

"You aren't running. Why? Do you truly wish to be here? Do you want to be with us?"

"No. We are loyal to Ralph." uttered Eric while Sam looked at the ground in silence.

"Ralph's dead. Does that change your thoughts now? Will you become one of us or will you take your chance back there in the forest with The Beast?"

"Geez.. well, I don't know… We're gonna have to think about it..." Eric mumbled. Sam shifted his weight between his feet as he nervously clenched the scraps of his khaki uniform shorts.

"There's no time for that. Make your choice. Live in _my_ new world or die in your old one." Roger insisted as he walked back and wrapped his fingers around his sharpened wooden spear.

"Then let us die." Eric hissed. In an instant, Roger thrust the spear forwards and it lodged itself deep in Eric's chest. Blood spread across his chest, staining his yellowed shirt, and gurgled up through his mouth. He tried to choke out a last word, but fell to the ground in a pool of his own blood.

Sam felt like he was in quicksand, sinking faster and faster with no escape.

"So what'll it be Sam? Your brother's fate, or your own?" Roger probed while he retrieved his spear from the now completely lifeless body of Eric. Sam felt his knees going weak under him.

Fear raced through his bloodstream, like a fire that threatened to consume him. For once, his voice didn't tremble as he spoke.

"I will join you." Sam spoke without hesitation.

"Good choice. The others will be returning soon. They must see what happens when they disobey my orders."

"But isn't Jack the Chief?"

"For now, maybe but not for long. He has grown weak and is not of any use for the tribe."

"What are you going to do to him?"

"Just what I did to this other traitor here. Nothing good comes to those who step out of line."

The conviction with which Roger spoke made Sam anxious. If he was willing to kill the Chief and Eric, who else would he kill that got in his way? With Roger in control, there soon would be no one left on the island for him to rule.

As the boys returned to Castle Rock each one was taken aback by the brutish manner in which Eric's body was displayed. He was tied to the pole, naked, with his eyeballs cut out and rocks replacing them. On his chest was painted the word, "TRAITOR" in his own, crimson, metallic-scented blood.

When Jack arrived back at the Rock with the two boys carrying the freshly murdering sow, he was not fazed at the sight of the dismembered boy, but he was angry at Roger for doing such a thing without his permission.

"I did not tell you to kill the hostage!"

"He wasn't a hostage, Jack, he was a traitor," Roger stated while sharpening the point of his spear that not an hour ago was inside Eric's chest.

"I'm not Jack! I'm Chief!"

Jack's face turned bright red with anger where the paint no longer protected him. He grabbed his spear, still scarlet and sticky with the pig's blood, and thrust it at Roger. Roger deftly avoided the blow and countered with a strike of his own spear to the side of Jack's head. The impact of the collision between the spear and Jack's head knocked him over onto the hard packed dirt and rock. He clumsily grabbed for his spear, which had been released from his grasp as he fell, but Roger was too fast, and he skillfully pinned Jack to the ground.

"Bring me the knife, Sam." Roger ordered.

"Yes Chief," Sam responded flatly as he brought forth Jack's knife and placed it carefully in Roger's palm.

"Hold his hands back."

"Yes Chief."

Sam took Jack's hands and pinned them to the ground above Jack's head with surprising strength.

Roger unsheathed the knife and twirled it around in his fingers.

"Funny don't you think? I'm just about to kill you with your own knife." Roger laughed as he dragged the tip of the knife along Jack's bare chest, a thin line of blood appearing in its wake. Percival started to cry but the rest of the boys shut him up.

"You know what I think? I think you're a traitor. I think you've been working with Ralph and the Beast this whole time. I think you want to kill the whole tribe so you can have the island for yourself!" Roger fumed. "You know what we do to traitors here?"

Roger pushed the knife into Jack's skin and he howled in pain. Roger cut at Jack's skin and lurid red blood poured to the surface of his chest. Letters took shape on his skin, bleeding over into each other. Jack continued to screech as the word "TRAITOR" appeared from the incisions of the knife.

Roger's voice dripped with acid, unquavering, "Had enough yet?" He said as he moved the knife next to Jack's eye. No words were decipherable from Jack's incoherent cries. Roger plunged his knife into Jack's right eye as he shrieked in pain.

Jack's screams were suddenly overpowered by the shouts of the naval officer as he appeared over the ridge. He had heard Jack's screams and came to investigate. He stood with the littluns behind him, trying to shield them from the horrors that presented themselves.

"PUT DOWN THE KNIFE!"

Roger glanced at the officer and then turned back to Jack.

"PUT DOWN THE KNIFE OR I WILL SHOOT!" the officer bellowed as he drew his gun.

Roger placed his knife on Jack's neck, and in one swift motion, cut his throat open. Black blood with an acrid scent spurted from the wound onto Roger's face and in seconds Jack was dead.

A shot echoed through the air.

Not a moment later, a scream.

Roger fell to the ground on top of Jack and his blood flowed into Jack's, and like a flood the crimson tide slowly spread and seeped into the rocks, dripping over the edge of the cliff and disappearing into the the bright blue ocean.

The rest of the boys had been silent and now they all slowly sank to their knees and cried, wishing this unholy nightmare would be over.

The naval officer checked Jack and Roger's pulses and pronounced them dead. He carefully brought the rest of the boys back to the beach and then ferried them back to the ship where Ralph was.

None of the boys ever spoke of the horrors that were committed that day.


End file.
